Eulogy for Mother
Daughter of Teresa, granddaughter of Josefa, my mother, Natividad was born in El Paso, Texas on December 24th, 1921. She always told us that she was responsible for the rest of her sisters being born in this country. The family was on its way back to México because PD had closed the mine and was sending workers back to México. The family never got there because of my mother’s birth. She was the only one in her family who was not born in Morenci and although she made sure people knew she was born in Texas, she was very proud to be a “Morenci girl.”
When I asked family members to describe my mother, they used many of the same terms: a private person, very shy, meek, humble, a caregiver, religious, loving, simple tastes, stubborn, intelligent, unassuming, frugal, timid, serious, modest, always put others ahead of herself, and most of all, she did not like being in the limelight.
For their fiftieth wedding anniversary, Mama didn’t want us to make a big fiesta. We finally got her to agree to a simple renewal of their vows with only the immediate family present. For her eightieth birthday, we planned a big party with all the extended family invited. Again, she nixed the idea and we finally got her to agree to a small celebration with only her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. The party was planned for last Saturday when everyone could come from California, Nevada, and Texas. When I talked to her on her birthday, she told me, “Can we cancel the party? I feel too weak.” I told her I would not cancel it but postpone it until she felt better. Today we are all here to celebrate my mother’s 80 years of life. It’s not the party we had planned for, and there are many more people than my mother would have been comfortable with, but we’re all here to honor her memory. I know, Mama that you didn’t like to be in the limelight but today, like it or not, the spotlight is on you.
My mother was the fifth child of Teresa and Wenseslado. That put her in the middle of a family of ten children, nine of which survived to adulthood. Maybe being in the middle of such a large family accounted for her demeanor but I think it was also part of her nature.
In “Called Home”, the first chapter of the book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year in Food Life, Barbara Kingsolver presents her concerns about America's lack of food knowledge, sustainable practices, and food culture. Kingsolver introduces her argument for the benefits of adopting a local food culture by using statistics, witty anecdotal evidence, and logic to appeal to a wide casual reading audience. Her friendly tone and trenchant criticism of America's current food practices combine to deliver a convincing argument that a food culture would improve conditions concerning health and sustainability. I agree with Kingsolver that knowing the origin of food is an important and healthy benefit of developing a true food culture, but it is impractical to maintain that everyone is able to buy more expensive food. Kingsolver presents a compelling argument for developing a food culture, however this lifestyle change may not be practical or even possible for a poverty-level citizen. The following essay will summarize and respond to Kingsolver’s argument to demonstrate how “Called Home” is a model for novice social scientists.
Ruíz, Vicki, and Sánchez Korrol Virginia E. "Huerta, Dolores." Latinas in the United States: A
Within these past few years, more and more people have tried to use their community’s grown produce instead of large company-based products. These ‘locavores’ have grown in numbers as people have taken into account the health related, environmental, and economic consequences of choosing locally grown products. The key issues associated with the locavore movement are the economic effects and the change made in the environment of a community.
Pat Mora was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, the city in which her four Spanish-speaking grandparents migrated during the Mexican Revolution. Her firm belief in promoting cross-cultural understanding and the appreciation of Hispanic culture often reveals itself in her works. She often writes about the elements of the Southwest to relate to and empower Hispanics to embrace the cultural traditions that are so significant to their identities (University of Minnesota).
I’m glad we have Maurice, my mother’s younger brother here today. Ella, her older sister, unfortunately couldn’t make it, but I know the news of my mothers death hit her hard. And I know that she prayed with all her will, for my mother.
It is hard to give a eulogy for one’s parent. More than the death of a classmate or sibling, the death of a parent is not only a loss, but also a reminder that we are all following an inevitable path. We are all “Outrunning Our Shadow” as her friend Fred Hill so provocatively titled his book.
More and more farm-to-table restaurants, farmer’s markets, and food co-ops are cropping up to meet the demand among consumers for healthy, local foods, as more chefs and consumers recognize the poorer taste and nutritional integrity of ingredients shipped in from far away. Fruits and vegetables that have to be shipped long distances are often picked before they have a chance to fully ripen and absorb nutrients from their surroundings. Because local food doesn’t have to travel long distances, it is grown in order to taste better and be healthier rather than to be resilient to long travel. The farm-to-table movement also helps local economies by supporting small farmers, which is a dying
I was sitting at my small desk in my room when I saw my dad had come home from who knows what, wearing a sad face. He came up to my room with a big red rose. Right then I knew what was going on. I never spent a lot of time with family members who I was not close with. I acknowledged their presence, but I never talked a lot to or about them.
Julia Alvarez was born in the 1950’s in the city of New York, but at three months old the family moved to the Dominican Republic as her mother was growing homesick of the island. This is the first difference between Alvarez and the Garcia Girls, as they were all born in the Dominican Republic. She is the second daughter of four, the two oldest born in the U.S. and the two youngest born in the D.R. In her essay “An American childhood in the Dominican Republic,” Alvarez expresses that her mother nicknamed the oldest “americanitas,” the Spanish word for little American girls, and the youngest “criollas,” meaning native from the island, referring to the places they were born (Alvarez). The Garcia girls also encounter a similar situation as their mother calls all of them by “cuquita,” which stops being a sweet name, and becomes an undesired word between the sisters.
In the year 1980, the Ramirez family migrated to the United States led by my grandparent’s Francisco and Ana Ramirez, whom where the first to arrive to the land of opportunities. Their journey was not easy they had to struggle, and fight for their
I would like to thank you all for coming to Arlyn's funeral. I am truly touched that you care enough to show your support for us and your respect for Arlyn this way.
Where do I start? How do I begin a farewell when I still can't believe you're gone? How do I say goodbye to a part of my soul?
The Family Tree My family story took place in the middle of the seventeenth century, when Mexico was still part of Texas, in a town now known as Kerrville. This land has been in my family for centuries and still remains in our hands. There under the hills of my ancestors, around a camp fire surrounded by my tios, tias, and primos, my grandfather Guadalupe Morales would lead us into a world that we could see with our heart and feel like we did the heat of that fire. This was the same story passed down from generation to generation through depressions and wars about slavery and strength, faith, and perseverance. It was a story of victory and family.
For my oral history I decided to interview my mother. My mom’s life is filled with so many interesting stories and they always take me to another place. I chose her because I wanted to more, I wanted to see if my mother was more like me when I was younger. Mother was a straight A student in high school and involved in many clubs. She was born and bred in Cleveland, she grew up in a different and exciting time; it was the eighties. Here is my mom in not so many words :
Before I begin I would like to thank all of you here on behalf of my mother, my brother and myself, for your efforts large and small to be here today, to help us mark my fathers passing.